


Blood

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood Loss, Gen, Medical Procedures, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 10:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: When the Champion suffers heavy bloodloss following his latest fight in the arena, Ulaz is forced to try and come up with a solution that won't leave the human dead...





	Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written for the Uliro Week back in May, for the theme Endurance/Weakness. I had hoped to participate then RL acted up and I was unable to.
> 
> I'd like to point out that this ficlet was written before the release of Season 3 and 4 -- which I haven't seen yet, sadly. Details might not be fully canon compliant.
> 
> That said, I hope you'll enjoy the fic. And Happy New Year to all!

It all comes down to the crowd wanting to see more and more of the Champion fighting as time goes by.

It does not surprise Ulaz the slightest.

The arena and the gladiatorial fights aren’t in favor with all the Empire’s denizens, but it’s still a deeply anchored Galra tradition and pastime. Ulaz can’t think of a single Galra of his knowledge who hasn’t come to watch the fights at least once in their life. Any and every soldier who is on leave will makes his way to one of the rings to either watch or, more rarely, to participate. Even if most of the fights take place between slaves, there are always Galra willing to go in to fight (slaughter) an opponent.

People enjoy the fighting… and they also enjoy betting on the outcome when they can.

Some Galra find it amusing and some (and Ulaz finds himself firmly in this second category, even if he doesn’t show his feelings outwardly) find it utterly distasteful.

However, even if Ulaz has no love for the bets, he has to grudgingly admit that they do some good, if only because the monetary outcomes force the wardens and the arena managers into treating their prisoners relatively well. One can’t risk throwing a fighter in the arena if they’re in less than at perfect condition, least the crowd will call out foul and ask for their money back.  
It is the main reason Ulaz has been semi-permanently assigned to the arenas. True, he still treats injured Galra soldier, but most of his time is nowadays occupied by taking care of the numerous slaves that are thrown in the ring. Those who survive, anyway.

On a personal standpoint, working with so many alien species did wonder for Ulaz himself; his knowledge and understanding of alien biology and of ailments is practically unparalleled across the Empire (and his expensive knowledge, he made sure to encode and covertly transfer to the other members of the Blade of Marmora. Knowledge or death is their motto, and what Ulaz learned, he doesn’t wish his fellow rebels to lose should he die in a mission. Rebellions always need medics as much as they need fighters and knowing how to provide treatment to allies will strengthen the Blade).

As a result, he’s trusted with the health of the best gladiators of the arena. To be specific, he was once The Gladiator or rather, Myzax’s own personal physician.  
And now he is the Champion’s.

Some of Ulaz’s coworkers, his fellow doctors, consider it to be a great honor. Ulaz nods along when they say it, keeping his face expressionless as he verbally agrees. Internally, however, Ulaz wants to rage and scream.

Because in truth, keeping the Champion healthy is a source of deep frustration.

It is not the Champion’s own fault, of course. Nobody in the arena refuses medical care, even if Galra’s ‘bedside manners’ leave much to be desired. Nobody wants to die from an infection or blood loss, so Ulaz usually only deals with unhappy but obedient patients.

The Champion usually is too. He’s docile whenever Ulaz has to bandage him, though he remains tight-lipped through almost every question the doctor aims at him. Ulaz don’t blame him for his silence, however. The human has no reason to trust him, not really. Ulaz’s role is only to patch him up before sending him back into the arena to fight or die if he fails. The doctor can’t let him know, can’t let anyone know he’s more than a ‘loyal member of the Empire’.

_(He pretends the fear, mistrust and hatred in the eyes of his patients don’t bother him. Insides, he weeps a little, because he’s not their enemy. He wishes he could do something more to help them, to free them, but he can’t. So Ulaz just grits his teeth in private and treats the slave to the best of his capacities.)_

Still, Ulaz wishes the Champion would be a little more cooperative during their sessions. The human barely speaks whenever he has to be patched up, which is a pity. After all, if he knew more about the Champion’s species, Ulaz could heal him better and make sure his needs are decently met.

As it is, Ulaz’s lack of knowledge doubly bothers him, both as a doctor and as member of the Blade of Marmora.

No Galra has officially met a human before (and even unofficially, Ulaz can’t remember anything about this specific species in the databanks of the Blade of Marmora’s headquarters). Ulaz only has his own observations and the samples taken from the Champion and the two other humans he was captured with to help him along.

The discovery of a new species could have made him giddy. Instead, it internally brings him grief because it’s going to lead to more innocent being dragged under the heel of Zarkon.  
Externally, however, he can’t appear as anything but an interested professional as he works on his samples, take a few more from the Champion and goes to observe his fights.

Humans are… interesting. Or rather, the Champion is interesting.

The Champion is strong (though is his strength normal for his species, above average or weak, Ulaz has no idea whatsoever and won’t have any so long he doesn’t have access to more data to compare), he’s quick, he has a knack for finding weak points to exploit and to create strategies to take down opponents twice his size. His victory over Myzax has been unexpected. It is part of what has made him so famous in the beginning, before further matches made his legend grown even more.

Ulaz himself can’t deny the Champion fascinates him – and, at the same time, the Champion worries him. The young human’s ability to resist and withstand pain and fatigue is nothing short of extraordinary, for someone who isn’t a Galra. His will to live, to survive, shines brightly. It shows in his eyes, in the tenseness of his body as he shifts his weight and prepares to attack.

However, Ulaz also knows the Champion’s mental state isn’t the best. He sees the symptoms of stress and trauma as much as he sees the physical wounds. But if Ulaz can stitch the human’s body together, he can’t do much for the Champion’s peace of mind.

He has heard soldiers and guards scoff and describe the Champion as a bloodthirsty killing machine, so eager to fight he hadn’t hesitated in attacking one of his companions for the privilege to be the first in the ring. Not only that, but he had been ready to kill the other human too.

Ulaz doesn’t believe it for a tick.

He has seen enough security footage, taken directly from the cells or from the drones’ memories files to know the Champion cared for the smaller human – smaller, apparently younger, most likely to die if he went against Myzax, probably subordinate or friend human.

It didn’t take long for Ulaz to piece together that the Champion hadn’t been trying to kill, but only to injure. Injure in order to spare the other human’s life by taking him out of the fight before it had even started.

Dangerous. Smart. Unexpected. And strangely enough, it has worked.

It’s a noble gesture, and one Ulaz secretly admires. Galra’s mentality, at least among Zarkon’s staunchest supporters, doesn’t encourage one to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others but rather to scarify others to further your goal. True noblesse is something most of Ulaz’s kin has long since forgotten safe for those who fill the ranks of the Blade of Marmora.

_(He does report his findings to Kolivan. Their leader perks up in interest. There is potential to gain an ally in the Champion, so Ulaz is on further orders to keep an eye on the human. He would have even without Kolivan’s input.)_

The Champion is giving Ulaz hope.

“He has not recuperated enough to be send back to the ring yet.”

But hope is a fragile thing, and the constant demands of the crowd for more matches involving the Champion could very well kill it as surely as it will kill the human.

Because even if he’s strong and fast, the Champion is lacking endurance.

Oh, he’s probably perfectly in the range of his species, as far as Ulaz knows, and what the human has is certainly enough to go through a fight without much trouble. Data shows it is also increasing with each fight, slowly but surely.

His recovery time, however, is fairly insufficient, at least as far as Galra as concerned. As far as the spectators and betting pools are concerned, to be more exact. People want to see the Champion fight, and they want to see him win against all the odds.

Ulaz wishes he could snap at them all.

Strong fighter or not, the Champion has limits, limits Ulaz is uncomfortably aware of.

Not that anyone but him care.

“So you already said before. The human looks healthy enough for me.”

“And as I stated before, looking healthy isn’t the same thing as being healthy. His vitals still haven’t go back to…”

Ulaz’s logical arguments don’t sway the arena’s managers. The Champion is sent back to fight despite his advice.

It doesn’t end well.

Which is why Ulaz is now hovering near an injured, clearly delirious Champion as he’s trying to stabilize him. His frown keeps deepening as he goes from one injury to the next, mending wounds to the best of his ability.

In the end, he has to shake his head.

“I won’t be able to save his arm,” he finally says regretfully as he looks up, grimacing. Such a pity. But perhaps it’s just as well, he thinks to himself. The Champion’s reputation ought to protect him. He can be removed from the arena altogether and sent to a work camp. It’s not an easy life, but it’s better than be put down immediately.

Of course, it’s not what happens.

It turns out Haggar has watched the last fight and was impressed by the Champion, to the point of wanting to bestow him a ‘gift’.

In Ulaz’s mind, he translates this to ‘I need a test subject for a new project and the injured human will be perfect for it’.

He has a hard time not letting his ears twitch and bare his teeth at the thought of the human being in Haggar and the Druids’ claws.

“Very well. Will she want him transferred?”

“No, she will come here directly in short order. The Champion would better be ready for her by then.”

Ulaz’s face betrays nothing.

“He has lost a lot of blood and he’s very weak at the moment.”

“You have synthetic blood at your disposition, no? Besides, he’s always weak. No resistance, that human, not like a Galra. Just transfuse him and remember, Haggar want him in good enough condition to withstand surgery.”

This is why Ulaz is now in such a precarious situation as he watches the Champion, face incredibly pale, moans in pain and weakly thrash against the straps of the medical bed.

Ulaz can’t use synthetic blood on the Champion, as much as he wants to. Despite what most Galra think, it isn’t a one wonder cure – it doesn’t work on every species across the universe, far from it. And while most Galra captives can be transfused with it and suffer no ill effect, Ulaz’s tests show the human system will reject the synthetic components.

He has tried anyway, because what else could he do? Perhaps his tests had been flukes.

“Matt,” the Champion moans, “Matt!”

He should never have tried, Ulaz thinks dispassionately as he wipes a damp cloth over the Champion’s forehead. Just as he had suspected, the human’s body doesn’t accept the synthetic. The Champion is running a fever, his breath his short and his heart rate has increased to dangerous level.

He has stopped the transfusion at the first chill, but the harm is already done.

“Matt!”

“Shh,” Ulaz murmurs despite himself. “Calm down.”

He wishes he could say more, but he can’t, not now, perhaps never.

“Matt… Ry… Ryou…” The Champion is whimpering, eyes closed shut and Ulaz isn’t sure what to do anymore.

“Champion? Do you hear me?” Ulaz asks calmly, wondering who is that ‘Ryou’ person. Matt is a name the Champion has often murmured, but this one is new.

“’ro… ‘m name Shiro…” An eye is half-open and looking in Ulaz’s general direction before closing. Ulaz just stares, taken aback.

“Shiro,” he murmurs.

He wants to chuckle, badly. He had never managed to make the Champion give him his real name while treating him when lucid. And now he’s delirious, here comes the information. It’s amusing and sad and pathetic.

“Do rest, Shiro. I’m not going to let you die.”

It is the closest thing of a reassurance he can give the human. You never know if someone is listening in, after all.

Ulaz just drops the cloth he has been using and massages the bridge of his nose. He can bring the human’s core temperature back into more normal readings, provided he gives him the right amount of medication.

But for the rest… He has limited option before him. The human needs blood if he wants to survive, at least until Haggar and her ilk get to him, and perhaps it’d be kinder to let him die. However, the Champion’s death could bring Ulaz’s own and while he has no qualm dying for the success of the rebellion, dying at the end of the Druids for something unrelated to his activities as a spy would be hollow and pointless.

He can’t afford that.

The human can’t handle synthetic blood… but perhaps he could handle Galra’s.

Ulaz stills as he ponders the idea further. It should be possible, in theory. The doctor has used the blood samples taken on each human captives before they were transferred to lead a variety of test. Human’s blood samples had reacted quite well to the addition of Galra blood under the microscope.

Perhaps, with some luck…

The Champion – Shiro, Ulaz corrects himself – makes another distressed sound, words the translator can’t pick escaping his mouth. Ulaz’s lips purse as he takes his decision. Talking gibberish shows how much the human’s health is deteriorating. Transfusing Galra blood is risked, but it’s probably the best chance Shiro has now.

So he doesn’t hesitate before inserting the needles and tubes in Shiro’s intact arm… and in his own.

If the Champion has to receive Galra blood, he should as well receive the blood of someone who isn’t loyal to Zarkon, who secretly opposes the horror Shiro is facing every dobash and who is honorable.

At least that’s how Ulaz rationalizes the decision to himself as he watches Shiro’s constants, trying to keep himself still as to not accidentally ripe the tube out. The human isn’t rejecting his blood, which is a relief. He can save him.

And perhaps, just perhaps his blood will help the Champion live longer. Perhaps it will help him get that endurance Shiro is yet lacking.

_(Physical changes in species transfused with Galra blood have been largely documented already. Hopefully the human will follow the same thread.)_

If anything, Ulaz hopes it will at least give Shiro a better fighting chance.

He doesn’t know what Haggar and her Druids have planned for him, but it certainly won’t be pleasant. He finds himself hoping it will just be prosthesis. He doesn’t want to think of how the human’s already frayed nerves would handle anything more. The stress has already started to turn a strand of his hair paler, Ulaz has noticed.

_(When he next sees the human and discovers the grayed strand has turned completely white, Ulaz is left to wonder if it’s a further effect of the stress and trauma Shiro lives through, or an unfortunate result of the blood transfusion.)_

Blood flows steadily. The human’s constants are stabilizing. Ulaz sighs in relief.

There is nothing more he can do for the Champion, for Shiro right now, asides of make sure he stays alive. But oh, how much he wishes he could! If Kolivan’s orders for him to stay in position and not gather attention to himself weren’t so firm, Ulaz would probably have done… something already.

Perhaps someday, he’ll be in a better position to help the human, if he can’t help anyone else.

Perhaps someday…

****

End


End file.
